Another

I have a friend who I've known for 15 years and who I don't see often enough. We meet regularly, twice a year, with our husbands, on New Year's Eve and the 4th of July. Standing dates that that have never needed to be confirmed, it was always just presumed, and we've never disappointed each other. Over the years our personalities have changed, our interests have expanded, our careers have become more established. We're hardly the same people we were so many years ago when we first met, barely recognizable in comparison to who we are today. So when she called out of the blue and asked me to meet her, a sinking, heavy feeling settled in the pit of my stomach.

When we last met, on the 4th of July, we talked about children. She asked about our adoption and I asked her about her plans. She is the born-to-mother type, the type that's been told since she was 10 "you're going to be such a great mommy" from friends and family. Nurturing and kind, but mostly gentle in nature. As with so many of us she's had some infertility issues, and she was scared of the hormones associated with IVF, how they would make her feel. We talked about our plans as mothers, she showed me tiny little wool mittens she had bought during a recent trip to Colorado. It was nice.

So I met her for lunch and we made small chit chat. She's signed up for a fishing tournament and I laughted, because truly this was a change in hobbies for her. We talked about our husbands briefly and agreed that M. was going to make a wonderful father. And then as I bit into my sandwich I hear her voice, small, ask "you have endometriosis, right?" and I looked at her surprised and a little puzzled. "No", I said, "I have emdometrioma, it's different" and I explained the difference. I told her that at the site where my cyst had burst I had some small spots of endometriosis, but it wasn't "too bad". I knew where this was going, but I just couldn't stand to hear it. "They think I have endometriosis" she said, and my heart sank. She told me of the severe pain, the fear, what the doctors told her.

Inevitably our conversation turned to fertility again and she asked me if I thought this would complicate things more than they already are?

I didn't know what to say.

But I did tell her that she wasn't alone, that I would be beside her, no matter what she decided to do. If she wanted to give IVF a whirl, I was going to be her loudest, most obnoxious cheerleader. I promised I would make her laugh even on the worst of days. And well, if she decided on adoption, I knew a thing or two about that subject as well and would be more than happy to share the information. I gave her blog addresses of some of the most elequent, funny, couragous woman I have ever had the privilege of getting to know. She seemed to be a little more relaxed and I saw her face soften somewhat, although there were tears in her eyes, mine too.

Another woman has joined our team.